


Le cœur de Lion

by seven_ofmine



Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: Episode: s04e18-19 The Killing Game, F/F, Space Opera
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-03
Updated: 2020-02-03
Packaged: 2021-02-28 06:07:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 723
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22539070
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seven_ofmine/pseuds/seven_ofmine
Summary: Katrine begins to keep a journal at the request of her rebel group's newest member.
Relationships: Kathryn Janeway/Seven of Nine
Comments: 5
Kudos: 11





	Le cœur de Lion

**Author's Note:**

> Writing has to be executed in small chunks so that I upload! Here's another take on a classic idea, hopefully with some good one-liners.  
> The french in the beginning is just my way of practicing my second language, you're not missing anything!
> 
> I hope to get to the juicy parts soon!
> 
> Olivia

_ Le 23 _ _ ième _ _ de Septembre, 1942 _

_Le cœur de lion: une métaphore pour tous que j’en avais il y a quatre ans, en ouvrant cet establishment. Je savais assez pour me sustenter, mais ma passion, depuis longtemps, est les autres. Depuis ma naissance, j'avais toujours quelqu’un pour me comprendre. Comme une enfant, j’habitais sur une ferme, où j’avais toujours quelqu’un à me parler…_

_September 23, 1942_

_Le coeur de lion: a metaphor for everything I had four years back when I opened this establishment. I knew enough to keep myself afloat, but my passion has always been people. Growing up on the family farm, I always had someone to talk to - someone to understand me and vice versa._

_At thirteen, I knew there was something different about me. I dressed like the other boys with my ratty old trousers and newsboy cap. On the other side of the main farm road, behind his green garden shed, a boy named Tariq and I kissed the same girls._

_At thirteen. my father finally told me it was time to “cut out my act”. I carried myself as I wished; I was neither masculine nor feminine. In all honesty, who would want to be a farmer’s wife, destined to a life of cooking, cleaning and childcare. I love kids and all, but I wanted an adventure bigger than the kitchen or the dishes. I wanted a wife of my own. For that reason, my father could never forgive me._

_So, at sixteen, I moved here to St. Clare with Tariq when all I knew was how to use my small town charm. For five years, we both worked at Hotel Lyon, in the heart of the city, where my affinity for people flourished. Eventually, I gathered the funds to open up a pub of my own with Tariq as my trusted barkeep._

_When the war broke out, Le coeur de lion hadn’t yet been open a full year; I was sure it was the end of my success in the city. The regulars would all gather, ears pressed to my radio to listen for the enemy’s next move. We all spent the next two years trying to get by. Waiting._

_Those regulars quickly became my close friends. Them, and the people from the farmer’s market up the road. One short, stocky man named Neelix caught my eye… Everyone had secrets, sure, but on him, I could smell them. Our late night huddles quickly turned into a small rebel group. Through code and camaraderie, we grew to a half a dozen people, each with our own talents for sneaking about and getting the right information to and from the right places._

_One night, just before closing, a cloaked woman strode through the main entrance carrying a small suitcase and a worn newspaper; she was soaked. The earthy air carried the smell of rain into the bar and for a moment, I remembered working in the rain as a young girl. She dropped her bag and threw her cloak onto the nearest coat stand. Her blonde curls bounced free from her hood as she caught my lingering eye._

_***_

"I'm afraid we're closing for the night," I began. "Can I help you with something?"

"Yes, Madame. And I hope, in turn, I may be able to help you as well."

"What exactly did you have in mind, Mademoiselle?"

"In response to your advertisement, I believe I may be of great assistance to your... staff." She extended the morning paper out to Katrine. 

"Ah yes, I wasn't expecting such a quick response, but I suppose I am looking for someone diligent."

"'Someone who _sings,_ but does not _chirp'_ was the designation, I believe." Her unwavering gaze excited Katrine in more ways than one.

"Fantastic! Happy to have you on board, Mademoiselle...?"

"De Neuf, Madame." Katrine reached for her opposite hand, intrigued to find it cool to the touch and laced by metal, similar to the bracketing above her left eye. 

"Please," she chuffed, bringing their connected hands to her lips. "Call me Katrine." The two shared a knowing smile.

"As for lodgings, I..."

"There is an extra bedroom upstairs, _ma chère_. Allow me to take your things?"

"Thank you." With a gentle nod of the head, Katrine scooped up the bag led her up the stairs to her new bedroom.


End file.
